Lucky Girl by Jamie Pacton (novels for beginners txt) 📕

Holden shoots me a look, as if he’s remembering the same thing. He bites his lower lip but doesn’t say anything. “So are you going to the lake tonight?”

This is a Saturday-night tradition in Lakesboro. Every night until the snow comes, a bunch of high-school kids take over the beach for bonfires, drinking, and hanging out on the lake. Most of the kids in town have boats, including Holden. Since I don’t even have a kayak, being on Holden’s boat is one of my only chances to be out there. And my soul could desperately use some on-the-water time right now.

But this is Holden.

Nothing is ever simple with him, and although it hurts me physically to say it, I stay strong. “Not tonight. I’m staying home to catch up on some schoolwork.”

“C’mon, Jane. Forget homework and come to the lake with me. It’ll be fun,” Holden persists, with a look that’s more promise than anything else. He steps forward, and our bodies are now inches apart. His face is so close, I can count all the freckles his trip to Hawaii has brought out across his nose. He smells like sunshine and his shampoo. The combination makes my insides ache. My traitorous breath catches in my treacherous throat.

There’s another knock on my window, and then Bran’s face appears. “Jane? What the shit? I’ve been calling you all …” His voice trails off when he sees Holden standing so close to me.

“Hey, Bran,” I say, stepping away from Holden like he’s on fire. I stride toward the window. “Uhm, come on in.”

Bran scowls and then heaves himself through my window too. His trench coat—yes, he’s wearing a vintage tan trench coat along with a T-shirt and his gray fedora—catches on the windowsill, and he tugs at it. When it comes free, he tumbles into the room in a tangle of limbs. Brushing himself off, Bran stands up quickly.

And there we all are.

Me, Holden, and Bran, just casually standing in my bedroom. Inches away from my basket of dirty laundry—which naturally, with my luck, has a pair of bright-red underwear on top—and my backpack, which holds the book that holds the $58 million lotto ticket.

Not awkward at all. Nope.

HA!

“What’s he doing here?” Bran shoots Holden a poisonous look.

“He brought coffee,” I say in the world’s most pathetic attempt to find some social footing. I hold up my latte. “Want a sip?”

“I’m hoping to take Jane to the lake tonight,” Holden says smoothly. “What are you doing here?”

Bran turns to me, eyes wide. “I’m her best friend. I don’t need a reason to be here. You’re not going to the lake with him, are you?”

I glare at Bran, annoyed suddenly by his protectiveness. “I’m not sure. He just got here, and I’m undecided on my evening’s activities.”

“Come with me to the Harvest Festival,” says Bran. “I’ve got a lead on the lotto ticket, and I want to ask some questions.”

I should definitely tag along with Bran so I can throw him off the scent if he gets too close to my secret.

Holden shoots us a look that makes it clear that attending the Harvest Festival is the dorkiest way imaginable to spend a Saturday night. He slings an arm over my shoulder. “Choose the lake, Jane. Have some fun.”

“I’m going with Bran,” I say, shrugging off Holden’s arm. I take a step away before my poor, confused body can be swarmed with more hormones.

“Plus—as we’ve already covered—I’m her best friend,” adds Bran. “And you’re just the dick who broke her heart.”

Holden has the good grace to blush. “Okay, okay. I can take a hint. I’ll see you around, Jane.” He starts toward the window.

“Wait!” I call, following him to the windowsill. My hand rests on his shoulder for a moment, sending a thrill of heat through me. I drop it faster than I would a jellyfish. “Thanks for the coffee. I’ll try to get to the lake later, after the festival.”

Holden smiles at me again, and my insides melt. “I’ll count on it. Text me.”

Then he’s gone, and I’m left with a furious Bran.

“Don’t even try to explain,” says Bran, jamming his fedora down to his eyebrows. “If you want to hang out with Holden, that’s your business. Just be careful.”

“I’m not even sure what’s happening there,” I admit. “He just sort of showed up.”

“Do you still like him?”

I shrug. “It’s complicated. Maybe he just reminds me of a time when I was happy? Or he’s a distraction? Or maybe he’s my great love, like in the movies.”

Bran snorts. “He’s not your great love. I refuse to accept that, because it means I’ll have to hang out with him for the rest of our lives. But if you want to go out on the lake with him tonight, I won’t tie you up and lock you in my trunk.”

“Super generous of you. Now, what’s your plan?”

Bran clearly has more to say about Holden, but he plops into my desk chair and pulls a list of questions from his pocket. “I need to go through the festival crowd tonight asking these questions.”

I take the list from him, reading out loud in as dramatic a voice as I can muster to dispel some of the tension in the room.

Have you ever played the lottery?

Where were you the night the lotto ticket was purchased?

Did you go to Wanda’s that night? If yes, then what time were you there?

If you aren’t the winner, do you have any clue who it might be?

What would you do with the money if you had won it?

“I don’t see how the last one is relevant,” I say, reading over the list again. The lotto ticket is inches away from Bran. All he would have to do is lean over, unzip my bag, pull out the book, and mystery solved.

It’s possible he could even help me figure out whom I should ask to cash it. But that’s a lot to put on him.